If I Could Remember
by GoddessLove
Summary: Hermione Granger is assigned a mission in Scotland during the war. Somehow she ends up in a hospital and can no longer remember her name. Draco Malfoy is the only one who seems to know who she is, but what if he was the one who put her there? DMxHG
1. Chapter 1

**If I Could Remember**

**Chapter 1:**

I awoke, my eyes dragging open as I looked around the room. My body felt weak and tired, I struggled to keep my eyes opened. It stung with the bright light and I blinked a few times to try to clear the blurry fog.

I glanced around the room, my head moving slowly. I laid in a bed with plain white sheets, in a hospital gown, the tips of my toes peeking out from the end of the thin blanket. The room was unfamiliar; I had never seen the tiny lamp that shone in the corner, nor the two small chairs that sat at the end of the bed.

There was a noise, a irritating ticking that beat steadily. It ticked on and on, growing louder in my brain. My fists clenched together as it beat repetitively, I was sure the sound would crumble me to insanity.

A loud scream echoed through the small room, it took me a while to notice that it was my own voice. The ticking was thumping like a drum, I strained my ears to find the source of the noise. There was a clock on the wall, it whined from the beats. I made to stand up and grab it, but when my feet hit the floor, I fell over, as my weight was too strong for my feet. I felt my body collapse inward, my head went to connect with the wall.

"Miss!" A soft voice, a female voice. Two thin arms caught around my middle and I never heard the sound that would be my head banging against the wall. "Miss- are you alright?" The woman was petite, with long and straight red hair and blue eyes. She was dressed in a long white coat, with a tiny sticker near the button. There was tiny symbols scrolled on it, but I didn't know what it was.

She urged me to the bed, and I felt a cushiony fabric against my bottom. I tried to fight her off, I didn't want a strange woman touching me. My hands pushed her away, she tumbled backward and I stood up again, rocking against the front of my toes.

My thin fingers reached out to grab the clock, I wanted to bash it against her scull. To my surprise, my hands never made it to the clock. I felt my feet rise up from under me and I fell onto the hard floor with a crash.

"Oh my!" the red haired lady shouted. "Miss, I'm so sorry. Please let me help you up." She reached out her hand and I took it. She managed to lead me back to the bed, my weight pressed against her shoulder. Her small hands pushed me gently against the fluffy pillow. I sighed from the softness.

"Who are you?" I asked suddenly.

She smiled warmly and pulled the blankets up around my waist. "I'm Cindy Leewood and I'm a doctor. You are at the Sunnyfolks Clinical Center."

I looked at her, confused. "What is a clinical center?" The word seemed much too big to understand.

"It's a hospital Miss. You were brought here unconscious." Cindy began to poke me with different instruments. She shone a light in my eye that made me wince, and stuck a wooden stick in my mouth.

I lay still as she pinched the sides of my jaw. "Why do you keep calling me Miss?" She looked up from my chin to my eyes, she looked surprised.

"I call you miss because I do not know your name," she answered, looking at the clipboard she had brought in with her. "There is no name on this sheet. Can you tell me your name?"

I thought about this, my eyebrows connecting with concentration. "I'm not sure," I proclaimed, shocked at myself. "Why wouldn't I know?" My memory strained to remember, but as much as I thought the correct answer seemed to be slipping away from me.

Doctor Leewood shook her head sadly. "I might have to run some tests." She said that more to herself than I.

"Why am I here doctor?" I began to play with the hemp of the bed sheets, twisting them around tightly. My fingers looked pale, too pale to well.

"Honey, you were in a coma." I tried to think if I knew that word. I knew it had to do with sleeping.

"For how long?" I realized I did not want to know as soon as the words escaped my mouth.

"Two months." The woman made it seem like it was not a long time. "Do you remember what happened before you fell into unconsciousness?"

I worried if I really was insane, as I could not even remember my own name, besides that I could remember nothing at all. "I can't remember," I gasped, scared of what was happening to me. Had I always not known who I was? Did I even have a name?

"Miss, I think you have amnesia." The doctor looked down at me pitingly. I knew it was not something pleasant, but feeling foolish I had to ask, "Is that a good thing?"

Cindy Leewood just smiled at me with warmth and sadness. "How about lunch?"

--

It was a while later, and I now sat with a fork in my hand and a small tray on my lap. The doctor decided it was better for me not to move, and I sat frozen, my hand only toying losely with the utencil. It had felt like a very long time since I had awoken.

More doctors came in to talk to me, and their voices banged into my head. Their voices were too alarmed, and their questions now sat crammed into my brain.

"Miss, Dr Leewood told me that you could not remember you name, is this correct?"

"Did you have any ID on you? Nurse Smith, check her clothes!"

"You can not remember anything? Nothing at all?"

"Miss, I am going to say some words and tell me if you can remember anything about them, is that okay?"

"Your mom's name? Your dad's name? Did you have a husband? A boyfriend maybe?"

"Do you remember where you live? Do you even live in Scotland?"

I had sat with my head shaking and shaking, confused by the words flowing out of their mouths. At first, I would open my lips to answer as if it were the simplest questions on Earth, but as my voice was ready to reply, the answers zoomed out of my head. It made me wonder if they were even there in the first place.

Soon Doctor Leewood came back into my room with a gentle look on her face. "Hello dear," she greeted and walked towards me a little slower than she should. She glanced down at my tray and noticed the unopened container of jello.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you not like jello?"

Again the answer seemed to lull in my head, and I would just have to reach out and grasp it. But it seems my mind was too weak and I was forced to admit that I did not know.

The doctor smiled sadly and pulled a chair from the corner of the small little room to sit down beside my bed

"How are you feeling?" she asked, patting her hand on my own.

"Lost," I replied. "And… and confused."

"You have a right to be. The doctors here have decided that your memory won't come back until someone has rejogged your past."

"What does that mean?" I asked, dropping my fork to turn my attention to the doctor.

"Well dear, we thought we'd post a few flyers up, put word around to see if anyone knows who you are," Dr Leewood answered.

"And you hope someone will identify me?"

"Hopefully," she said and suddenly she pulled a camera from behind her back. "With a picture maybe."

I looked at her with glass eyes and she stared back at me with a worried look. It was then that I remembered that I did not even know what I looked like. I felt like crying, how could someone forget something like that? My name, where I lived, and what I looked like weren't in my memory.

"Oh, would you like a mirror?" The doctor questioned and she walked into a bathroom attached to the room. She grabbed a small round mirror from the counter and walked back, placing it into my hands.

"Maybe you would like to freshen up before we take the picture?" she asked. "You came in with a few cuts."

I held the mirror in my hands, afraid of my own reflection. I could have laughed. Would I remember once I saw who I was? Lifting the mirror up, I gazed at myself.

Oh.

A large cut ran from my forehead to the side of my eye, and the tip of my chin was scraped and scarred. I flinched when I saw my reflection for the cuts looked far from healed. But behind the cuts, behind the blood, a face that looked back at me was beautiful.

Was it polite to call oneself beautiful? Would that even be considered vain? But the person that looked back at me didn't feel like it was me, for I hardly knew myself.

My face was heart shaped, almost even a child like roundness. But my cheekbones were defined and had a rosy tint to them. The lips, the bottom plumped out and eyes. Deep rich eyes with thin, dark eyelashes curling up. My hair swished down in curled locks in the same colour as my eyes, and slightly poofed out past my shoulders.

Hmm… was I called beautiful in my old life? For to me, it seemed that the life where I knew who I was seemed long gone in distance.

"Say cheese," the doctor ordered and took the picture before I could smile. "Hopefully someone will ID you. We will likely hear something in a few days."

So it was jello each day that ticked by and I'd sit in the bed, staring at the light from outside as I twirled my fork. The doctors would come in every day and take tests, x-rays and questions became my daily routine.

"How's it going?" I'd always ask Dr. Leewood.

"Still running tests," she'd answer. "It's good that you still remember me."

"Yes good."

And this happened, for two weeks and my memory didn't come back and no phone calls came in. No one knows who I was. I was an invisible face.

"How's it going?"

"Still running tests, I see you still remember me."

"Yes… but no one else seems to remember me."

The doctor sighed, and put her clipboard down to gaze into my eyes. "Don't worry, it will take a long time. The person who are waiting for just hasn't seen the signs yet."

"If anyone was looking for me, it wouldn't be hard to find me."

"Don't give up hope."

I was ready to, I was willing to jump out of this bed, sneak out the tiny window and be gone forever. Being stuck in a plastic bubble would not allow me to remember who I was.

It happened that day, when my hope was faltering, where I was about to give up all hope.

I was twirling my fork, looking at the sun fade down into the earth and disappear. Why hadn't anyone come to find me yet? Was I not worth it? Did anyone know who I was? Was I even loved?

The anger built up inside me, I could feel it. An emotion stronger than boredom, of worry and of doubt. My grip strengthened on the fork in my handand so fast that I had to blink multiple times, the fork exploded. It shattered into million of pieces with a soft thump.

I remembered then. I remembered that forks did not shatter. They could break and they could certainly snap, but they did not explode. But I remembered nothing else.

The nurse, Ms. Smith came into the small room and looked at my shocked face with confusion.

"More jello?"

I simply turned on my side and went to sleep. I did not dream. I never did.

Far Away in England… 

The war was going on and Harry Potter was in the dead center of it all. He was worried, and his fingers drummed against the kitchen table of his godfather's house. Ron was across from him, flipping carelessly through the large book placed in the middle of the table.

He signed, scratching his freckled nose. "I wish Hermione was here," Ron huffed. "She'd love researching all this stuff. Her nose glued to the pages." Harry just looked back at him with a blank expression written on his face.

"Blood hell Harry, she's fine. I know she is fine."

"You can't guarantee that."

"Dumbledore wouldn't have sent her if he knew it wasn't safe," Ron argued.

The vain point in Harry's forehead was throbbing again. Luckily Ron was used to these tempers lately, for Harry worried about Hermione far too much since she had left three months ago.

"It's a war! No one is safe and Dumbledore knows that!"

Ron decided to remain calm, which was entirely different than he used to be, and recite what he had been saying over and over. At first, he and Harry would bicker, but Ron soon quickly got tired of this.

"She's a good witch. A great witch. Hermione wouldn't have taken the mission if she couldn't do it."

"It's Voldemort!" Harry roared and Ron flinched at the name. "It doesn't matter how talented you are if he wants you dead."

"You're still alive," Ron pointed out.

Harry ignored him. "She hasn't called, she hasn't sent owl, we haven't heard from her in three months."

"She can't. It could jeopardize her position. Do you want to get you-know-who's spies on her trail?"

"No, but she needs us there. I can feel it."

Ron sighed again, flipping the book closed with a thud. "She's a big girl. It's just a small mission. Trouble wouldn't be able to find her mate."

This seemed to anger Harry more and he stood up, beginning to pace back and forth in the tiny kitchen. "We have to do something, I can't just sit here and do nothing!

"And what are you suggesting? Sending your magic powers to Scotland?" Ron mocked.

Harry shot him a look of anger. "We have to go to her!"

Ron rolled his eyes and placed his feet on the rotting table, his hands behind his head. "Scotlands a big country Harry. How do you suggest on finding her?"

Harry's face fell and he slumped back into his chair. For Ron was right for once, and there was no way to find her without making himself known to Voldemort. They would have to wait for word on Hermione's safety.


	2. Chapter 2

**If I Could Remember**

**Chapter 2:**

I sat like always, my back pressed up against a pillow, my fingers lazily swinging the fork in my fingers. The sun was glowing nicely, the clouds had faded and a light breeze whooshed from the windows, cooling my skin. It made me shiver, but it was a delicious cold and I breathed it in.

It was then that I was discovered.

Out of my door I could hear voices. There were two, a man and a woman. I recognized Dr. Leewood's kind, but firm voice almost immediately. So, I wasn't forgetting the present. That was good.

"I'm sorry sir, but if you have any information about my patient, I'd like you to write it down on this sheet."

"This is ridiculous, you muggle! Why would I need to write stuff down on a sheet? I have brought in the sign, I know who she is. I want to see her now."

"Sir, my name is Doctor Leewood and I'd like you to refer to me as that and not your English insults! My patient can not see anyone who is not a relative."

"A relative? I have business with her and I want to see her this instant!"

My heart beat hyperactively; were they talking about me? Was I found?

"Yes, a relative sir. A brother, a cousin, a father, a mother," Dr. Leewood explained. "I can not permit someone in to see her otherwise."

The male voice took a moment to respond. "Very well, yes, yes. I am her fiancé."

"Fiancé?" The doctor repeated, confused.

"I said yes, didn't I? Do you Scots not know what 'engaged' means?"

Dr. Leewood sounded irritated now." I assure you I know what that means."

"Good, good. Off to see the next Mrs. Malfoy then?"

The doctor sighed. "Yes follow me.

"She has amnesia so I would request all the information you know of her. She's not coming around very fast you see, she was in a coma for two months."

"I see," the male voice said, now very close to the door. "I'd just like too see my fiancé now, we can worry about that nonsense later."

The door opened and Dr. Leewood stepped in, followed by a blond haired man.

The sight of him! It made my stomach turn, for he was quite a beautiful man.

His thin lips turned into a wicked smile when he saw me, and his eyes sparkled with victory. Oh, he had found me! He knew who I was! His blond locks fell gently in his gray eyes, and his pale cheeks glowed with happiness.

"Darling, darling! I've finally found you," he cried with happiness. I did not know that this was supposed to be sarcastic, for his voice oozed with it, but the doctor took no notice.

"Hello," I said all too shyly, for this man was a stranger to me.

The man rushed to me, his brood shoulders collapsing to bend and encircle me in a hug. He held me there, the warmth of his body warming my own. Oh, he smelled wonderfully.

"Miss, do you know who this man is?"

I looked at the blond man, and he quickly took his arms off me to stand straight up. I pouted, missing the feel of his body against mine. "N-no Dr. Leewood."

"Hermione, love," he said, his smile slowly turning to a frown. "It's me."

"Oh miss, I will leave you to get acquainted with Mr. Malfoy. Maybe he can explain to you who you are."

"Draco," he corrected the doctor with a beautiful smirk.

The doctor's eyes fluttered in a girlish way, and she giggled before placing a cup of jello on the tray in front of me with a smile.

"I assure you good healer that I will," Mr. Malfoy said, with a nod. Ushering her out, the door slammed shut with a thud.

He laughed then, his silver eyes sparkling brightly. "So, Miss. Granger, we meet again."

"Hello, hello," I say, and grin back at him happily.

"Clever," he replied, pacing back in front of the door. "To hide in a muggle hospital. Look at my suit? I'll have to get it burned from the mud that clings to it now."

I saw no mud or dust on the expensive suit and pressed shirt that hung on his body.

"Did you expect me not to find you?"

"Indeed I did," I answered, feeling the skip in my heart. "But I'm glad you found me. I've been waiting for you to come looking for me."

"They let you stay because you fed these muggles with lies of being diseased with this 'amnesia'?"

I looked up at him from my place on the bed. "They are called doctors Draco-"

He cut me off with a hiss, "Don't you dare refer to me as that you mudblood!"

I jumped back, my back pushing against the soft pillow. "I thought that was your name?"

He gave me that smirk, and shot me a look that could kill. "Nice cut on your face. I see it has ruined your appearance even more. You should thank me for that."

"What?" I asked, for I thought this visit from the man would bring enlightenment and not more confusement.

He walked closer to the side of my bed, starring down at me in anger. "You are lucky I didn't finish you then."

Our eyes connected and a current moved through me so swiftly it made my blood beat quickly through my veins. There was something about this man, I felt like I did really know him, but I didn't know why. Maybe he would know other things.

"Mr. Malfoy, has your fork ever exploded?"

The ice in his eyes faded, they hazed over with a cloud of gray smoke. "What's amnesia?" he asked me curiously.

I laughed, my very first laugh in what felt like ages. "You don't know either! The doctors thought it was strange that I didn't know.

"It's when you forget! I don't know who I am. Do you know who I am Mr. Malfoy?"

_Back in England…_

"An explosion?!" Ron cried, horrified.

"That's what the muggle newspapers are reporting." Ron and Harry turned to face each other in fear.

"What else does it say?" Ron hunched over the table to grab the muggle Scotland newspaper.

Harry's seeker reflexes allowed him to snatch it first. "An explosion in Edinburgh… dead of night. One house burnt down, the road had been blow to pieces… _A woman was found at the scene, bloody and hurt and was rushed to a local hospital. She suffered from a minor cut to the head, but no other signs of physical damage_."

"Hermione?!" Ron gulped.

Harry shook his head, but the doubts were still in his mind. "No, no it can't be… right?"

"It's a woman. It doesn't mean its Hermione."

Harry nodded slowly. "Yeah, anyone." He wasn't looking at his best friend, but instead seemed to be somewhere else.

Ron was too preoccupied to notice, his nose pressed into the newspaper. He was looking at the picture, studying the planks of broken wood from the house and the holes in the road. "Why won't this picture move!?" Ron yelled, angry.

The interruption of Harry's thoughts caused him to look up and round at Ron. He bent down, quickly examining the picture.

"It's just a normal explosion, nothing magical about it," Ron stated uneasily.

"It's Voldemort. Nothing is ever normal."


	3. Chapter 3

**If I Could Remember**

_Reviews would be quite pleasant!_

**Chapter 3**

"What's my name again?" I asked the handsome blond who sat on a plastic chair beside my bed.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I thought you said that you could remember everything from the present?"

"I can," I confirmed, happily. "I'm Hermione Granger, and you're Draco Malfoy… right?"

He nodded warily, his eyes shone with confusion as he looked me up and down. "Amnesia," he muttered.

"Um-hum." Draco Malfoy leaned back on his chair, in an exhausted way, but his eyes never left my face.

I picked up my fork, twirling it in my hand like always. It was a long moment before I had the courage to ask, "Do you know where I live?"

"Yes," he answered, but spoke no more.

I began to flick the little ends of the plastic fork, back and forth, back and forth. His eyes were so gray, they were so intense that I had to keep shyly glancing back at him.

"Where?"

"England," he said simply, shooting me another glare as if I were making a fool of him.

"England?" I gasped. Where the Queen lived! "What am I doing in Scotland then?"

Draco clenched his teeth at me, a growl coming through his lips. "Granger, are you fucking with me?"

I cocked my head to the side, staring at his hostile face. "Why would I be fucking with you?"

Suddenly, he pulled out a long stick from his coat pocket and pointed it at my heart. My eyes widen, appalled.

"Don't make me do this," Draco hissed.

I put my hands up, confused. "Are you going to stab me, Draco Malfoy?" I asked.

He stood there for a few minutes, studying my eyes, the expression on my face. I felt threatened by the weapon he held in his hand, but not of him. He had a kind face, a sparkle in his eye- he was the only link I had to my old self.

Slowly his arm lowered and the stick fell to the side of his waist. He still stood there though, studying my every move.

"Sit down," I told him, his back looked rigid.

Draco's nostrils flared.

"Please," I added as an after thought.

Draco sat down, his head spinning with thoughts. Was she really faking it? Had she lost her memory? Hermione Granger- Hogwart's know-it-all, top of every class, _prefect_- stuck dumb in front of him.

"Could you just answer me a few other questions please?" I begged, quickly grabbing the first thing off my tray. "I'll give you my jello," I offered.

A small trace of a smile filtered on his lips, but it quickly disappeared. "Depends what it is."

"Do I have friends?" I had been wondering this for a long time, if I had friends I would have been found. If I had friends, they would be searching for me. If I had friends, were they good enough friends to be worried about me?

Draco just clicked his tongue.

I blushed, giggling in apology. "Not to say, that you aren't my friend."

He clicked his tongue along his teeth again.

My face fell, saddened by his silence. Oh. I had no friends.

Draco Malfoy sighed in annoyance. "You have friends Granger."

"Are they worried about me?"

Draco scratched his chin, silently loving the eager look on her face. He held all the answers. Hermione Granger knew nothing. He held all the answers.

"Probably," he said. "And Slytherin is the best house."

What? I wrinkled my nose. What that some code or something? A name of a building? "What's Slytherin?"

"The best house."

I nodded, pretending to understand so he wouldn't be upset again. "Alright."

"Say it," he demanded.

"Slytherin is the best house," I repeated, grinning to myself for my present memory was still intact.

Draco smirked in victory, settling comfortably in his chair.

"How old am I?" The doctors said they thought I was young to be living on my own.

"The same age as me," he replied, fixing the tie he wore loosely around his neck. I couldn't help my eyes gliding along his smooth, pale neck. "Eighteen."

My mouth dropped and his forehead creased in confusion.

"I'm _that _old?!"

"That's not old!"

"Well I sure feel old."

Draco stiffened and shot me an angry look again. "Just because your body feels old, doesn't mean the rest of the population of eighteen year old's bodies feel old."

This Draco Malfoy had a real tempter. I wondered how I had put up with it in my old life. _Eighteen_ year old life.

"So if I'm eighteen, did I just graduate school?" I questioned, trying to ignore the frown that didn't quite match the beauty of his face.

"You graduated last year."

I clapped my hands together as if I were a little girl. "Was I smart Draco?"

The man grimaced at his first name being used before answering. "I suppose."

"Was it a school for smart people?"

He hesitated at this question, while opening the packet of jello in his hands. "Yes… well, for the ravenclaws."

"Raven… claws?" I handed him the fork I was playing with. Draco took it, wiping the fork obsessively on the front of his suit, trying to clean the mud off of it.

"The second best house at Hogwarts."

I nodded again to please him. "And Hogwarts is…?"

"Your school."

"The one I graduated from?"

Draco mumbled a yes before dipping the fork into the jello cup and filling his mouth with the green blubber.

I looked at his expression, for some reason immensely curious.

He looked up at me, staring at him eat. "It's alright," he noted, grinding his teeth as if it pained him to say this.

I smiled. Personally, the jello felt strange wiggling down my throat, but maybe it was because I had forgotten the taste of food?

"Draco, do I like jello?"

He laughed at that, a real laugh for once and a trace of a smile filtered onto his thin lips. "I don't know. You tell me."

"It's slimy." I pouted.

The smile was still on his lips, my heart contracted from the beauty of him. "Well then," he said.

I smiled slightly back at him, wanting to know more about my school. "Hogwarts…"

Draco continued swallowing large bites of jello. He surveyed me, his eyes watching my every move. _What was he going to do with her? What about his orders?_

"Was Hogwarts in England?"

"It is."

"Is it beautiful?"

Then Draco Malfoy did something surprising, he opened the flap of his jacket and pulled out a photo. He handed it to me and I eagerly reached out to receive it.

The photo was moving: there was a girl, with bushy curly hair, waving her hand in earnest. She had a wide smile on her face, and behind her was a castle!

The most beautiful building I had ever seen. It was tall and grand, made of stone with many different flags waving on the points of towers.

With a jolt, I recognized it was me.

I burst into the same smile as the picture, grinning with so the most excitement in weeks. It's me. It's my life. It's me. "Wow," I gasped. "It's beautiful."

I didn't look up as I said it, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the fresh green grass, the wild flowers growing around the castle, blooming in the spring time.

Finally, when I looked up, Draco had finished his jello, and was looking at me in the strangest way. His head was cocked, his eyebrow a tad bit raised.

"Did forks explode their too?"

He snickered before saying, "Surprisingly frequently." At that moment Dr. Leewood came in, throwing a flirtatious glance at Draco Malfoy before making her way to my bed.

"Has Mr. Malf- I mean _Draco_, been filling you in on your past life?" She approached, looking at the small photo in my hand.

Draco grabbed it quickly, and folded it into his hand. I opened my mouth to cry out in protest, but he threw me a hard look and I knew it meant 'shut up'.

"Yes, he's been very helpful," I answered the doctor.

"And has any of your memory come back? Do you know of what he's told you?"

I frowned. "No, it's all new to me."

She smiled sadly at me. "Well, it may take a little bit of time. If anyone would know about you, it would be your fiancé." She turned to Draco and gave him a supportive smile.

"Fiancé?" _What was that?_

Doctor Leewood's smile turned quickly into a confused look and glanced at Draco in bewilderment. For a split second, I thought I saw a flash of panic in his dark stormy eyes, but he stood up and grabbed my hand lightly in his own.

His thin lips didn't look so thin up close, his face was dangerously close. My eyes widened before his head came closer, and his lips made contact with my own.

Draco Malfoy kissed me, soft and delicate. He pulled away a second later, but it was enough for my cheeks to turn pink. "I'll see you later dear," he whispered, and exited the room with Dr. Leewood.

It was only after the door had shut with a loud click that I realized, pressed in my hand was the photo.


End file.
